Matters of the Heart, Matters of the Mind
by quarks and all
Summary: McGee and DiNozzo are on duty for a steak-out that goes downhill when DiNozzo gets shot while getting coffee. Mention of McNozzo slash, but nothing actually takes place.
1. Chapter 1

Tim felt a wad of paper bounce off of his head, and choose to once again ignore Tony's antics. "McGeek, why don't you ever just kick back and relax. There's no Gibbs here to head slap you for it."

"Tony, we're supposed to be on a stakeout. Why can't you just do what you're supposed to for once? You're the one that should be worried about Gibbs' slap." Tim didn't look up from the computer he was using to see the street outside the window of their hotel room.

"Oh, come on, McKilljoy. There's no reason for you to have a stick up your ass all the time." Tony came over and slammed Tim's laptop shut on top of the other agent's fingers.

Tim jumped up from his seat and started shaking his hands, as if he could flick the pain off. "Aagh! Tony! What the hell is your problem?"

Tony had taken Tim's seat and was bouncing the paper wad up and down in his hand. He looked over at Tim and smiled. "Oh, come off it, McGoo. We both know that you love me because I'm the rebel you wish you could be."

"No, I don't Tony. I don't want to be a rebel, and I hate that you are. You're always acting like a clown, and you just don't get it. I _hate_ that. I hate you," Tim snapped back in anger, shoving Tony off the chair and pulling the laptop back open. "Tony, you made my computer freeze up!" Tim started trying to fix the problem.

"Look, I'm going to go get coffee across the street—" Tony started.

"Might as well, we can't do anything until the system is back up." Tim didn't look up.

"…Right…so I'll be back in a bit, McGee."

Tim heard the door close when Tony left and breathed a sigh of relief. Tony could be so frustrating. He looked down at his fingers and saw a dark bruise across his fingers. "Damnit, Tony. What's your problem?" he muttered to the empty room.

After a few moments, Tim finally got the equipment back up and running, and saw Tony walking across the street with two coffees in his hands. Suddenly Tony's head jerked the left, seeing something that was not in view of the camera. He placed the coffees down on the ground and reached for his gun.

Tim rushed out of the room and to the fire escape. He ran down the stairs of the fire escape, and jumped down the last level instead of using the ladder. Once on the ground he drew his gun, just in time to hear a gunshot. He rounded the corner to see his fellow agent falling to the ground while someone stood over them with a pistol trained on him. Tim reacted without thinking, training his gun on the offender and firing three shots. As the criminal fell to the ground, Tim sprinted to Tony's side, dropping to his knees.

"McGoo, you fixed the computer." Tony's eyes were glassy, and he seemed to be going into shock.

Tim shoved his hand into the wound in Tony's gut, causing Tony to wince horribly. "Sorry, Tony, but you're bleeding out."

"I'm bleeding?" Tony asked. "Did I ever tell you how cute you are when you're flustered, Timmy?"

Tim blinked. Even when Tony was dying he had the attention span of a two-year-old. He reached for his phone with one hand, increasing pressure on the wound with the other, which made Tony groan in pain. He one-handedly dialed 911.

A recording answered him, saying that all phone lines were full and to wait. Tim cursed under his breath and then smiled down at Tony, waiting for a person to pick up. "Tony," he whispered softly, "what happened?"

Tony's glassy gaze moved to Tim's face. "Well the guy was being all wonky, so I told him to stop it, and then there you were, looking all flustered." Tony's flashed his usual, cocky grin, which was extremely out of place in this situation.

Tim opened his mouth to say as much, but then a female voice spoke on the other end: "911, what is your emergency?"

"I'm Special Agent Timothy McGee, and my partner, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo has been shot in the abdomen by a suspect we were investigating, who has also been shot, and is probably already dead."

"Where are you?" the dispatcher responded without missing a beat.

"Outside the Holiday Inn Hotel on Elizabeth Avenue in Norfolk. He's bleeding profusely, and I think he may be going into shock."

"Wait, I was shot?" Tony demanded.

Tim nodded. "Definitely going into shock."

"Okay, an ambulance should be there in fifteen minutes. You should put pressure on the wound to keep him from bleeding out."

"I am," Tim responded, shifting to put more pressure on the wound.

Tony groaned. "I knew it. I knew you hated me. Why? I'm not that bad am I?"

The dispatcher said something that Tim didn't hear. Tim looked at his partner. "I don't hate you, Tony. Don't be ridiculous. … I'm sorry, what?"

The dispatcher sighed. "Do I need to stay on the line or are you okay?"

"Of course you do. You just said you did ten minutes ago," Tony accused.

"DiNozzo, I was angry because you shut the computer on my knuckles! I don't hate you, Tony." Tim was starting to panic.

"I'm sorry?" The dispatcher asked.

"We're fine. Just tell the ambulance to hurry." Tim slammed the phone shut and turned back to Tony.

"Of course you do. Who wouldn't? I'm like the biggest jerk ever, especially to you, Probie." Tony looked at something behind Tim. "What's that?"

Tim looked around to see nothing. "Tony, look at me, you're in shock. An ambulance is coming to take you to the hospital." Tony was still looking over his shoulder. "Tony. Tony! Look at me." Their eyes met. "Tony you need to pay attention. Try and think strait."

Tony blinked several times. "You have a halo. Did you know that? Of course you did. You're an angel, aren't you, Probie? I knew there was something weird about you, Mc…Gee." He blinked again and went silent.

"Tony!" Tim pleaded. "Please look at me. Come on, DiNozzo, you can do this."

"Do you hate me, McGoo?" Tony asked, his eyes getting really wide.

"No, Tony, I love you. You're like the obnoxious older brother I never had." Tim shook his head. "Tony, you're like my best friend, minus Abby. How could I hate you?"

"I knew it. I knew you loved my antics." Tony smirked knowingly.

"Tony," Tim said warningly. He opened his mouth to say something, but then Tony's eyes drifted shut. "Tony! Tony! Tony!" Tim screamed, but Tony didn't responded.


	2. Chapter 2

Tim sat in the waiting room of the hospital staring at his feet. Tony was in surgery, and the bullet had hit his liver, which the nurse had assured them wasn't as bad as it sounded because of the lobes in the liver. Tim had known that, but he also knew that the wound was more serious than they were saying, but he didn't have the heart to tell everyone that. He just stared at his shoes and wouldn't look at anyone. Abby was crying, and Ziva was staring at the wall hard, as if she could save Tony by killing the wall with her glare. Ducky was holding Abby, and Gibbs was glaring at Tim.

The ambulance had finally arrived a few hour-long minutes after Tony had gone unconscious. Tim had finally called Gibbs and told him what had happened. And Gibbs had told him that, "What? You're supposed to watch out for him. You let him get shot. What were you thinking McGee? Why'd you let him leave by himself? I told you guys not to do this. _I told you_."

And now that was all McGee could hear in his head. _What were you thinking, McGee?_ What had he been thinking? He'd been thinking that Tony had slammed his fingers in the laptop. He'd been thinking that if Tony got shot he deserved it. He'd been angry. He'd been stupid. It had been his own damn fault. That was all he could think.

Ziva got up and declared that she was getting coffee, offering to get everybody some, but McGee wasn't listening, he was staring at his shoes. "McGee, Ziva asked if you wanted coffee," Gibbs barked, making Tim jump.

Tim glanced up, looking at his coworkers for the first time since they got there, making him feel dizzy. He tried to say no, but nothing would come out of his throat, so he just shook his head before looking back at his shoes. He was silently hoping that if he stared hard enough Tony would get better faster, even though he knew it wouldn't work.

After Ziva returned with the coffee, the doctor came in and started explaining that Tony was through the surgery but not out of the woods. He was going on about something regarding people donating parts of their livers while still alive and getting sick, but Tim wasn't really listening. He was just mentally berating himself for being so stupid.

Tim didn't really know what was happening until Ducky grabbed him by the arm, telling him he needed to go home and get some sleep, that Gibbs was in with Tony, and that everyone else could come see him tomorrow morning. Tim stumbled emptily out of the hospital and to his car.

"Timothy, this is not your fault," Ducky said from outside Tim's car, holding the door open so that Tim could hear him. "Gibbs is mad because Anthony got hurt, he is not angry at you. Timothy, Anthony will be all right, I saw him. He should be fine; he'll be out of in a day or two. Do you understand what I am saying to you, Timothy?"

Suddenly, Tim felt his stomach rush, and before he knew it, his lunch was coming out onto the asphalt—and Ducky's shoes. Tim cringed, but Ducky rubbed his shoulder. "There, there, Timothy," Ducky said kindly. "It's just a pair of shoes, replaceable. It reminds me of a time when I was just a boy in college. There was a young man in my biology class who I use to go out partying with, one night we…" Ducky kept talking, but Tim was starting to feel woozy, and he vomited again.

Ducky got to the end of his story and said, "Sometimes it's better for it to come out, Timothy." By this point, Tim was starting to dry heave as Ducky patted his back.

Finally, Tim's nausea passed, and Ducky gently placed his hand to Tim's forehead. "You should go home, sleep and drink a lot of water. If you're feeling better in the morning, then you can come back to the hospital. Timothy, you didn't shoot Anthony; you saved his life." Then Ducky left.

The drive home was silent. Tim didn't bother turning on his radio or cd player. When he got to his apartment, Tim sat in his car, staring blankly into the darkness. It suddenly occurred to him that he had never eaten dinner, but that seemed totally unimportant at that point. He was not even sure he was up for drinking water. He finally got out of the car and into his apartment. He sat down on the kitchen floor, leaning against his refrigerator, contemplating the sink and the concept of drinking water. Before he could make a decision, he fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

That morning, Tim found himself once more sitting in the lobby, but this time he was holding a coffee in both hands and staring at the wall instead of his feet. Ziva was sitting quietly next to him with her own coffee. Abby was in with Tony, and Gibbs was sitting across the room, listening to Ducky go on about something. When Tim looked over at Ducky, the old man winked and smiled at him, somehow managing to lift his spirits greatly.

After a few minutes, Abby came into the room with a giant Caff-pow and a huge grin. Ziva nodded at Tim and took her leave for Tony's room. Abby flounced down next to Tim and smiled at him. "Tony's awake and happy, and acting just like Tony. He's tired though, and I think he's in pain…" Abby's voice trailed off. "But either way he's all Tony-like and cheery. The nurse seemed happy with his improvement and his flirtations." Abby waggled her eyebrows at Tim suggestively. Tim smiled back at her, and they fell into a companionable silence.

Ducky and Gibbs came over to sit with them after a few moments. "You feeling okay, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah, boss," Tim gave him a brief, unconvincing smile. Gibbs knew he was lying but choose not to comment on it.

Ducky smiled at the two people seated in front of him. "Anthony should be released tomorrow evening, assuming there are no unexpected complications, but he seems to be out of the woods now. He's a hearty fellow and seems to be healing faster than we expected."

Tim nodded and Abby grinned. Then Ziva came back into the waiting room. McGee looked over to see her, and she seemed more hesitant than usual. "Tony has asked to see Ducky and Gibbs, and…" she didn't seem to know how to say it gently, "he says that McGee should go home because he does not wish to see him."

Tim cringed but did not hesitate to get up to leave.

"McGee, sit down." Gibbs barked. "You're not going anywhere."

Tim sat back down and looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach again and regretting his choice to get coffee. Gibbs and Ducky went to Tony's room, leaving the three younger coworkers in an awkward silence.

Abby was at a loss for words, caught totally off guard, which was the opposite of what Tim felt because he knew why Tony didn't want to see him. Ziva seemed hesitant to say anything, but it was she who finally broke the silence.

"McGee…Tony did not seem angry, he just…I do not know. He is just very moody right now, I am sure that by the time Ducky and Gibbs come back he will have changed his mind."

Abby nodded in agreement. "He was a little moody while I was in there. The nurse said it was because of the medicine. And he's tired, so maybe he just has something to say something to Gibbs and Ducky, and nothing important to say to you."

Ziva bit her lip and shook her head slightly from behind Abby, but said nothing to contradict her.

Tim felt that he might be about to vomit again, and excused himself from the room, headed for the bathroom. As soon as he was there, his stomach emptied its contents. Tim felt horrible afterwards, but he was rather confident that he wasn't going to throw up again. He stumbled back over to the sink and washed his face and hands, hoping that he looked mostly normal before he walked back out and sat back down next to Abby, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Abby leaned her head on his shoulder, and Ziva surreptitiously discarded his coffee cup when she stood to throw away her own. Tim was not as discrete as he had intended to be, but he didn't really care at that moment.

Gibbs and Ducky reemerged into the waiting room, and Tim sat back up and searched for Ducky, who shook his head subtly.

"You all have the day off, as our only lead is dead. Go home and relax." Gibbs' voice was gentle, despite being stern. All of the coworkers left and headed for home.

Tim dropped himself into his car, and drove home. Once he was home he sat down at his typewriter and tried to start writing. But he couldn't think of what his story was even about anymore. It all seemed irrelevant and stupid in this situation. In a sudden burst of anger, he yanked the half-filled page of writing in his typewriter out of the typewriter and threw it in a crumpled up ball across the room.

Then he sat there, with no idea what to do. He was slightly regretful that he had destroyed that page, but he couldn't think of anything he could have done differently. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He couldn't continue along this line of writing right now, despite his imminent deadline. L.J. Tibbs and his team could wait.

Tim slid a new page into his typewriter—extremely gentle now—and placed his fingers over the keys.

Five hours later, there were a hundred pages sitting on the desk in his empty study. The top page had eight words written on it:

Matters of the Heart, Matters of the Mind


	4. Chapter 4

Tim sat back against the headboard of his bed, watching the television on the other side of the room. It was shark week on the Discovery Channel, and he intended to make the most of his day off. After his writing marathon earlier, Tim was just glad that there was something decent on to watch while he relaxed before bed and ate dinner.

Tim was trying very hard not to think of Tony, because if he went down that path he was bound to lose his dinner.

As Tim watched a great white fly out of the water after bait, his cell started to ring. He dropped his chopsticks onto the plate and reached over for the phone.

"McGee."

"Hey, Probie."

Tim felt an icy claw grip his stomach.

"Uh…hi, Tony. You doing okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry I bailed on you this morning. The meds were making my thoughts all hinky, and I was super tired." Tim could hear Tony grinning. The lie in Tony's voice was apparent, but breezy, as if the truth wasn't really important.

"Right. You sure I'm talking to Tony and not Abby with a voice changer?" Tim suggested lightly, wincing as a shark slammed into the boat the researches were in on the now muted television.

"Yeah, well, you wanna come over now? I know it's sort of spur of the moment, but I woke up and I feel kind of guilty about this morning." Tony's voice was now hesitant.

"The infamous Tony DiNozzo? Feeling guilty? I must be hallucinating."

"Hey now! What are you talking about? I feel guilt all the time, McGoo."

There was a knock on Tim's door. "Hold on, there's somewhat at my door." He put the phone down on the bed and walked to the door. He opened the door to reveal Ziva with Scrabble and a six pack of beer.

"Hello, McGee. I was hoping we could hang down tonight." Ziva flashed him a smile.

"Hang out, Ziva. And of course we can. Just let me go finish up a phone call. You can set the board up on that table." Tim indicated the kitchen table in the next room.

"Okay. Prepare to be beat, McGee." Ziva went into the other room.

Tim went back and picked up the phone. "Tony?"

"Was that someone dropping off a new computer for you, McGeek?" Tony teased lightly.

"No, it was Ziva. I guess we're hanging out tonight—"

"You mean playing Scrabble?" Tony accused.

Tim sighed. "Yes, I mean playing Scrabble. How about I come over first thing tomorrow morning?"

Tony was extremely hesitant. "Yeah, I guess it can wait, I mean I was just… Sure, it can wait to tomorrow."

"I don't want to blow you off Tony, so if it bothers you just say so, I can postpone with Ziva," Tim suggested gently.

"I… No, it's not a problem, Probie. You have fun with Ziva. Bye." Tony hung up before Tim could even say bye himself.

Tim walked out and sat down across the table from Ziva and drew his seven tiles. Ziva placed down her first word.

As Tim placed his own word down, Ziva started talking. "McGee, when I told you this morning that Tony did not wish to speak to you but was not angry with you, it was true. He was seriously embarrassed about something, but I am not sure what. He said something about things that he said while he was in shock, but I did not gather any more than that."

Tim crossed his arm instead of playing his third word. "Embarrassed? What could he possibly be embarrassed abou—oh." He furrowed his eyebrows.

"I was thinking that you would know what he was talking about. What is it that he said?" Ziva asked curiously.

Tim shook his head slightly. "He said something about my being cute when I'm flustered, and then later he said something about me being an angel. I just figure that he was in shock so it wasn't something that I'd take seriously. I mean it's either that or the fact that he kept insisting that I hated him until I told him that I loved him like a brother."

"Or perhaps just until I said that you loved him. Tony has attachment issues. He probably felt unwanted and simply needed some reassurance. He is probably afraid you would take it the wrong way," Ziva suggested.

Tim nodded and smiled, finally placing another word. "You're right. Typical Tony." As Ziva nodded in agreement, all he could think was, _Tony can't be gay, he just can't be._


	5. Chapter 5

Tim stuck his head into Tony's hospital room the next morning with a smile and two coffees. "How's it going, Tony?"

"Well, I have the most incompetent partner ever who got me shot, but otherwise I'm doing fine, Probie." Despite the harsh words, Tony grinned.

Tim, on the other hand, didn't find the joke funny. "Look, Tony, I feel bad enough about without you berating me. I knew this was just a ploy." He dropped the coffee on the small rolling hospital table over Tony's lap, and turned to leave.

Tim got all the way to the door before he heard Tony backtracking so fast he was tripping over himself. "I didn't—I don't—I—I don't believe that. You're—I mean to say I'm sorry, and please don't leave? I was just kidding around, Tim."

Tim turned around at Tony's pleading. "Okay, DiNozzo, but don't say things like that."

Tony flashed a grin. "Okay, Probie. So, how's it going? You and Ziva have fun playing Scrabble last night? You know, maybe you should try strip Scrabble some time."

Tim shook his head. "Come on DiNozzo. There's nothing between Ziva and I. You know that."

"But Probie, you could see her naked, surreptitiously take pictures, and send them to me. Everybody wins! I mean, you get to see your first naked woman since Abby, I get to see Ziva, and everyone knows Ziva likes me." Tony flashed another grin.

"Speaking of Ziva," Tim said, smoothly changing the subject away from the topic of naked women. "She told me that the reason you didn't want to see me was not that you were angry with me, as I had guessed, but because you were embarrassed. Since when do you get embarrassed, Tony? You don't have the tact to know to be embarrassed."

"Look, McNosey, I don't have to explain myself to you. I just was worried you'd take some of the things that delusional me said the wrong way." Tony smiled. "Nice deflection on the accusation of not having hitting anyone since Abby, though."

"If I didn't know any better, Tony, I'd say it seemed more like you were afraid I'd take it the _right_ way, because you know I don't ever take anything you say seriously, and I don't take anything _anyone_ says when they're compromised seriously. And, for the record, I've had plenty of tail since Abby." Tim took a sip of coffee in an attempt to hide the red in his cheeks from Tony.

"Do you remember when I kissed that guy because I thought he was a girl? How disgusted I was? This is like a ten times worse. A thousand times no. Ew."

When Tim saw Tony's eyes again he decided he ought to leave. "Right, whatever. I have to go, Tony. Enjoy your coffee."

As Tim left he heard Tony demand, "You don't believe me. What the hell is wrong with you, McGee?"

Tim turned around and looked at Tony. "Well, 'Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo', you tell me. What reasons do I have to believe that you are lying to me? For one, the number of times that you have lied to me is about twice the number of times you've told me the truth, you made me fall in love with a female version of you online, and do you even realize that you called me 'Tim' a minute ago? You never call me Tim. And despite all this I wouldn't have said anything or even thought it, if it weren't for one thing."

"And what is that one thing, McGee? What has your computer-like mind concocted this time? Is it as dumb as everything else you've ever come up with?" Tony scoffed angrily.

"No Tony, it's probably the most obvious thing that's ever happened. Since when do you beg to see anyone but Gibbs, and since when do you even give a damn if I hate you. Before you even left for coffee two days ago you were entirely put out, it wasn't just the shock, and while I might have played it off otherwise, you begged me to come last night, and when I refused you pretended it didn't matter, and earlier you begged me to stay when you insulted me. That's not the Anthony DiNozzo I know."

Tony opened his mouth and then closed it, unable to formulate a cohesive sentence, because there was no defense for that.

"And besides, Tony, you haven't even said I was wrong yet, just made some lame excuse. So tell me, Tony, am I wrong?"

"No," Tony mumbled at his hands. "No, you're not."

"I didn't think so. And for the record, I'm not as uninterested or disgusted as you're apparently so sure I should be. Maybe you should do something about it."

Tim left a very baffled DiNozzo alone in his room, headed for the stairs. That really hadn't gone as badly as he had expected.

AN: So that's actually the end of this story, but there will be a sequel. This one is only five chapters long, but the next story should be significantly longer. There are reasons for this, mostly involving about a few weeks' gap in any real action for Tony's complete recovery. He _was_ shot in the liver. It'll probably be at least a week and a half before anything for the next story shows up, but I wanted to make sure everyone knew because nothing has actually been resolved yet.


End file.
